


Stuck

by Suryaofvulcan



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-03
Updated: 2006-06-03
Packaged: 2018-08-16 07:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8092315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suryaofvulcan/pseuds/Suryaofvulcan
Summary: Trip finds himself in a sticky situation. (05/31/2006)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Just sneaking this bit of fluff in under the wire for Masturbation Month--I think it just about fits the challenge. This is my first attempt at this kind of 'bare bones' story. I also set myself the extra challenge of giving every member of the senior staff a speaking part. Dedicated to (and inspired by) every guy who's ever turned up at the ER after a close encounter with a vacuum cleaner.  


* * *

"Psst! Malcolm!"

Stop. Backtrack a few steps. Stick head into open access tube. "Trip?"

"Hey Mal. C'n you hand me my toolkit?"

"What the hell are you doing in there? The captain's expecting us at the reception in ten minutes."

"I know...just...see that tub of grease right there? Hand it to me, will ya?"

"Why?"

"Er...I'm kinda...stuck."

"Stuck?"

"Yeah."

Crawl a bit further into access tube beside him. Uniform unzipped, and...oh. "Ah, I see what you mean." Stifle a grin. "How did you manage that?"

Furious blush. "Er, well...just gimme that, will ya?"

Hold the grease-pot just out of his reach.

"C'mon, Mal, this is startin' to hurt!"

"Not until you tell me." One T'Pol-like raised eyebrow.

Sigh. More blushing. "Well, y'know we haven't had shore leave in a while..."

"Uh-huh."

"I was just down here swappin' out a power relay, and I noticed the intake port looked about the right size...had the right amount of suction." Shrug. "I thought I'd give it a try."

"And now you're stuck." Hand him the pot.

Quick application of the grease. Deep breath.

"Okay, here goes."

Grunt. Grimace.

"Ow! Shit!"

"Still stuck?"

"Bridge to Commander Tucker."

"Would ya mind gettin' that?"

Crawl back out into the corridor. "Reed here. Go ahead, Hoshi. I'm with Commander Tucker."

"The captain wanted me to remind you both you're due at the reception for the T'Kak leadership council."

"Thanks, but...er...I'm assisting Commander Tucker with a minor engineering emergency on E-deck. We'll be along as soon as we can. Reed out."

Back into the tube. "Maybe we should call Doctor Phlox."

"No! C'n you just...take a closer look?"

"At your...?"

"Yeah--just jiggle it around a bit. See if there's any give."

"Not bloody likely!"

Footsteps in the corridor.

"Commander? Lieutenant?"

"Aw, hell."

"Uh--hi Travis."

"What're you doing in there, sirs?"

Feign nonchalance. "Just some minor repair work."

"Can I do anything to help?" Travis's head joins us. "Oh dear. How'd you get stuck like that?"

Scowl from Trip. Grin from me.

"Well, what do _you_ do when you're fed up usin' yer hands?"

Slight clearing of throat, and a sheepish look. "I don't suppose you guys have heard of auto-fellatio?"

"Aw, geez..."

Stare open-mouthed at Travis and develop a new appreciation for our helmsman. "You mean you can suck your own...?"

Broad grin. "Certainly can. It sure takes the monotony out of space travel."

File _that_ piece of information away for future reference...

More footsteps approaching, and a new face at the end of the tube. "Good evening, Sub-Commander. Can we help you with something?"

"The captain asked me to assist with your engineering problem, since he is anxious for you and Commander Tucker to join him at the reception."

"Really, T'Pol, there's nothin' you can do to help." Almost frantic.

Raised eyebrow. "Lieutenant, if you would make room for me...?"

Exit tube and let T'Pol in.

"Ah, yes. I see."

Groan from Trip.

"Lieutenant, will you please comm. Lieutenant Hess and have her bring the cutting gear?"

"What? No freakin' way!"

"Commander, if we cut away this panel here...and here...you should be able to free your...appendage."

"Thanks, but I don't wanna _lose_ my 'appendage' in the process."

"Archer to Tucker. Where are you, Trip?"

T'Pol exits the tube. "T'Pol here. Commander Tucker is...indisposed at present."

"What d'you mean 'indisposed'?"

"He has become...lodged in intake port E-delta-forty-six."

"He's stuck?"

"He is, as you say, stuck."

"Well, call Phlox, get him unstuck, and get up here! Hoshi and I can't schmooze twenty-five T'Kak dignitaries on our own."

"Aye, sir."

Mill around looking embarrassed while we wait for Doctor Phlox.

"Lieutenant, you and Engisn Mayweather need not remain here. I will wait with Commander Tucker until the doctor arrives."

Deep sigh from inside the tube. "If it's all the same, T'Pol, I'd prefer if Travis and Malcolm stayed. Moral support, y'know?"

Blank expression. "In that case, I will return to the reception. Please excuse me."

"Oh, you're excused!" Sarcy comment from disembodied voice--totally lost on the Vulcan.

"Ah! What have we here?" Doctor arrives. Brief explanation. Slightly longer examination. "I've often heard it said you're in love with your engine, Commander, but I didn't realise the relationship was physical."

"Ha, ha. Very funny."

"This would make a very interesting paper..."

"Just get me outa here, Doc."

"Certainly. Lieutenant? Can the vacuum pump which operates this port be turned off?"

Revelation of the blindingly obvious. "Of course!" Head for control station and turn off the pump.

"Now, Commander, gently does it. You have a considerable amount of swelling..."

"No more'n normal."

"Of course not. There we are. There doesn't appear to be any permanent damage."

Relieved sigh. Sound of uniform zipping up. Phlox backs out of the access tube, followed by Trip.

"Now, if you'll accompany me to sickbay, Commander..."

"No need, Doc, really."

"Very well. A mild analgesic will take care of any lingering discomfort." Hiss of hypospray.

"Thanks, Doc. Now, let's get to that reception."

Fall into step beside Travis as we follow Trip and the doctor down the corridor.

"So, Travis, tell me more about auto-fellatio..."


End file.
